


Expectations

by MagicalStardust



Series: My HDM Works [2]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mary is the best person in this and I love her, Not book of dust canon compliant, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, Seriously Unhealthy Relationships, Sexual Assault, i haven't read the books, marital rape, positive ending to all the angst, so Marisa's backstory is based on my imagination, this is the darkest thing I have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStardust/pseuds/MagicalStardust
Summary: Marisa's past relationships were very different to the one she shares with Mary.
Relationships: Edward Coulter/Marisa Coulter, Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter, Marisa Coulter/Mary Malone
Series: My HDM Works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164986
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> This is the darkest thing that I have ever written, so please, please heed the tags. I believe M is the correct rating because the sex isn't explicit, but please do let me know if you would disagree after reading.  
> I should reiterate that this isn't canon compliant to the Books of Dust as I haven't read them yet.  
> This story was spawned when I read the ending of 'Northern Lights' this morning and was struck by just how messed up Mrs Coulter and Asriel's relationship was, so then obviously I thought about how that might have compared to her other relationships.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this.
> 
> 13/01/21

Her marriage to Edward Coulter had been arranged between himself and her parents. She had been consulted, of course, as a matter of formality, but it had been clear the only answer that would have been accepted was ‘yes’.

She hadn’t been about to argue however, Edward might have been dull (and oh, how easily she could twist him round her little finger) but he was a way to emancipate herself from her parents without losing her social standing and that could never be something to be sneered at.

Her marriage to Edward was stifling. But that was no matter, everywhere was stifling. Her childhood home, the university, company. The only place that wasn’t stifling was her mind when she was learning, when she was researching. The knowledge sang to her, equations falling into place, theories dancing around in her head in swirls of colour.

And Edward allowed her to continue her studies, a silly pastime to entertain his wife. But what she was doing was important, she could feel the knowledge humming under her fingertips as she wrote paper after paper, begging to be let out. Of course, her tutors would never read her papers properly, the best she could hope for was irrelevant (disparaging) comments on the front of her work and a mark less than half of what she deserved. They had made up their minds as to what she could achieve as soon as they had laid eyes on her body.

They kept her around because she could pay the college good money for them to tolerate her, and the scholars liked having her around. She was someone they could teasingly belittle, rake their eyes over and fantasize about, she caught their eyes wandering, felt their hands in places they shouldn’t be when they called her close to them under the guise of showing her some new research.

Marisa bore it. Anything was worth it for the resources and connections the university could give her. Sometimes she wondered if she should allow them to take more liberties, take what they wanted in exchange for giving her the credit and attention her work was due. But she didn’t. She knew what everyone would call her, and that it would get back to Edward. It wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, the thought of giving her body like that made her stomach turn. Her ability to shut herself off from her emotions was excellent, but sometimes they resurfaced like tidal waves and tore her to shreds, and she could never escape the all-consuming self-loathing that clung to her like tar. Why add to it?

Sex with Edward was fine. He clearly desired her, and their wedding night the sense of desperation had been clear on his part. But he was old, much older than her 19 years, and disgusting and unexciting. Still, she did her part, dutifully trying to give him the heir he wanted and the children the Authority had made women to produce.

She wondered what life would be like if she did become pregnant (but as time passed it seemed less and less likely - the Authority had clearly seen the empty darkness of her soul and wisely decided not to grant them a child), she would be hidden away, unable to pursue her studies at the college, stifled.

  
  


Asriel was different. He was loud, and brash, and cruel. But then, who wasn’t? But he paid attention to her. He was attracted to her like everyone else was, but there was something in him that made her think she wouldn’t mind if he took advantage of her, dragged her into an empty room and had his way with her.

But no. Such thoughts were sinful and should not be tolerated. The burn marks on her arms and the way her monkey skittered away from her should be proof enough to the Authority that she was repentant though, shouldn’t they?

And she was repentant, berating herself every time her eyes met Asriel’s, his eyes lighting up with new ideas.

And he had so many new ideas, ideas that put the scholars’ archaic ones to shame, and she hung on to his every word.

And he listened to her too.

Of course, his words still cut into her when he was around others, intended to wound, to isolate, to raise his standing around the other men, and even when they were alone his cruelty was never entirely absent. Marisa found that this comforted her.

They often stayed up talking, late into the night, bouncing ideas off each other and delighting at their own brilliance.

Edward became suspicious of course. She was staying out late in buildings that housed other men, not returning to their home until the early hours.

Sometimes not even her eloquent and persuasive tongue was enough and Edward’s suspicion turned to jealousy and anger. She was his property after all. She was Mrs Coulter. She was his and she had sworn it so at the altar. So, as her monkey would shriek and struggle as his demon held him down and pierced his flesh with her talons, Marisa would lay shaking on the bed as he examined her for evidence of her indiscretions, refusing to let herself show any emotion except for righteous anger.

Marisa swore to herself she would poison him.

Of course, her talks with Asriel, the only times she could feel truly alive, were worth the violations, and Edward was always so sweet and quick to give her what she wanted once he had demonstrated who she belonged to, so easy to manipulate. And he eventually tired of searching her body for some sign of an indiscretion, which meant that Marisa was free to do what she liked with Asriel once the occasion arose.

“How much longer will you resist me, Marisa?” he asked, his voice low, as they sat hunched over hundreds of papers in the study room they had booked. “What we have, the connection between us, not even the authority could deny us this.”

His hand brushed a strand out of her dark hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear as she gazed into his dark eyes.

Then she let go.

Their kisses were brutal, he bit her and she bit back, unwilling to back down, not here. He would bite and scratch her, digging his nails into her soft skin hard enough to bruise, and she would fight back with equal ferocity, determination and lust shining bright in her eyes. He would win, of course, he always did eventually, but the thrill of the fight exhilarated Marisa, and pain was familiar to her, she welcomed it as her only friend. She knew where she stood with pain (and it wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve it anyway, having a sordid little affair and betraying her husband).

As Eve had been unable to resist the apple and had paid for her sins, so she was unable to resist Asriel.

She became pregnant.

Edward found out the baby wasn’t his.

  
  


Mary was different, and Marisa didn’t know where she stood with the woman. She wanted Marisa, that much was clear, but she didn’t want to take.

She kissed her forehead, kissed her scars.

She brought her tea in the morning, showed her amazing things, yet she wasn’t Boreal, didn’t expect Marisa to become hers out of wide eyed gratitude.

Mary didn’t hurt her when they had sex.

Marisa wasn’t sure where she stood with this.

She asked, once, for Mary to carve her nails into her skin, to hurt her, to bite and pull and grab.

Mary didn’t. She stopped what she was doing (kissing Marisa’s neck), and looked at her solemnly. “Marisa, you have got to stop finding ways of hurting yourself,” she said.

“Everyone else did it,” Marisa sighed, wrinkling her nose in annoyance, and suddenly found herself enveloped in Mary Malone’s embrace.

“Yes, but they shouldn’t have,” Mary said, her voice cracking, hugging her tightly.

They didn’t have sex that day, but Marisa found she wasn’t too bothered.  It was nice spending time wrapped in Mary’s arms, nestled under the covers that Mary had pulled up so they wouldn’t feel the chill on their bare skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that... if enjoy is the right word?  
> I won't mind if you don't comment or leave kudos as I used to be really anxious about doing so on fics as dark as this. But if you can, please do, I am anxious about posting this (and feel kind of bad about putting Marisa through hell - she is younger than me in the first two sections, what have I made her suffer through!) so I would really appreciate the validation.
> 
> The sequel to my other HDM fic should hopefully be up soon. I am having to do some research, reading papers and suchlike, to be able to write it to a good standard. (Currently wondering if I should include a bibliography at the end of it lol).


End file.
